A Bridge Too Far?

Yesterday, I ran the Brooklyn Bridge one and a half times (there were two film shoots on the bridge, one, looked like a commercial about food, and the other, was focused on two outrageous drag queens who were having a significant moment). The bridge is actually a great running path, a good part of the path is wood, so I ran with an extra spring in each step.

It was a long day at the business show: it was set-up day and then a cocktail reception at 5:00. It is a strain to be attentive for 8 hours at this business conference 'thing.' It's a false environment, a bunch of guys walking around in suits, pretending to be interested in meters, generators, computers, etc. I kept up a brave front, but I couldn't wait to get out of there. By the time I got back to my room I was exhausted. I crashed out early.

Thankfully, I had a thought provoking conversation with my father in the afternoon yesterday about 'history,' and how as a people, as a society, we seem to have amnesia. I do think we need to try to 'learn,' from history, but I'm not sure what lessons are to be derived from 'one damn thing after another.' There's seems to be some kind of never-ending story unfolding, but I'm not sure it has a purpose, although, it does seem to have a direction. There's a biological evolution and a 'cultural evolution,' which seem to move 'forward,' at different speeds. Biologically we are not so different from early man, but culturally we have moved in many directions. I have been reading about Shakespeare's time, and just like today, there is war, poverty, madness, joy, beauty, etc. The manners change, the fashion, the language, changes, but the broad outlines of a man's time on earth are the same: born, lives, dies.

History can enrich our lives, because it reflects how others have lived and died. The stories of others, the biographies of individuals, and nations, can be illuminating. But the 'lessons' are less clear. There is pain, there is joy, there are a million ways to live and die. Each man must choose his own narrative, and try not to sink beneath the weight of the world. The bridge is a good metaphor: running above the traffic, above the crowd, looking to the sun, hoping to get to the other side, and to come back again, renewed, refreshed, stronger and dare I say it; in some little way wiser!